Aeroplanes in the Night Sky
by TotalFanGirl221B
Summary: Martin's having financial trouble and when Douglas finds him asleep in his van, he takes him to his home. Martin barely leaves the guest room and Douglas barely sees him around the house, and he still hasn't heard the full story of how he came to finding him living in his van.
1. Chapter 1

"Martin?" Douglas' voice spoke on the phone. He sounded angry. Martin _always _made people angry. "Martin, where _are _you? We're meant to be flying in twenty minutes." he spoke again, becoming more and more irritated by the second. _I should answer_, Martin thought. Douglas would hate him even more. "_Martin?" _

"I- I'm stuck, Douglas. I've broken- broken down." He spoke quietly, shivering and snivelling a little as he did so. There was a pause on the other side. "I'm s- I'm sorry." He wrapped his hand into a fist as he waited for a response, feeling an incredible amount of guilt.

"Did you not call for someone? Why didn't you call me?" he still sounded angry, though it seemed less so now.

"N-no, no Douglas. I- I didn't think you'd- you'd come, I didn't think-"

"Where are you?" Douglas interrupted, slightly more exasperated.

"Er- er…" Martin paused as he looked around for any sort of sign or something. Douglas rolled his eyes as he waited impatiently.

"Martin, where _are _you?"

"W- Walker Street."

"Right, I'm coming to pick you up."

"Douglas, no- it's fine."

"Martin, it _wasn't _a request." Douglas immediately hung up the phone as Martin again tried to stop him. _What is he going to say when he finds me like this?_ Knowing Douglas he would probably find a way to make a joke out of it, after all, Martin's whole life was a joke to Douglas. Now that it had become worse made for more ammunition for his first officer. Martin rubbed his head with the palm of his hands, and then gave in once again to the never ending tears that stung his red eyes and rushed down his cheeks. He lay his arms across the wheel and his head collapsed into them as he burst into even more sobs than before.

Douglas was annoyed. He was angry. _Why hadn't Martin called him in the first place? Or even Carolyn to tell him he would be late?_ Suddenly a little bit of concern crept into his head as he drove to Walker Street. _It's not like Martin to be _late. _Even when it's not really his fault, he _always _finds a way to be at the airfield on time. He would have run._ Douglas didn't have a clue what was going through his captain's head at this point, but he didn't sound great on the phone.

After Douglas knocked and shouted Martin's name, the captain was roused from his slumber. He had continued crying and soon fell asleep due to exhaustion, which was due to all the stress and having to sleep in that damn van. It wasn't comfortable. However, his brain needed sleep this time, and so he was barely disturbed by his discomfort. And then, suddenly, he heard knocking. He groaned, trying to get it to shut up, but it persisted, along with someone shouting his name. "Go away…" he whispered, waving his hand a little in the air. Unfortunately, that didn't work. Eventually he realised he had to wake up, and so he unfolded himself, letting himself drop back against the seat as he sat up, and turned his attention the man at the window. Oh no.

Douglas stared at him for a moment or two as the man stared back, wishing he wasn't there. Douglas rolled his eyes and indicated to the locks, trying to get Martin to open the door so he could help. Soon Martin got the message and opened the door. Still, once the door had opened, neither Douglas nor Martin made their first move. Douglas was astounded by what he saw, and not in a good way. The van was a mess, a _real _mess. Martin watched as Douglas' eyes scanned inside of the van, and then he closed his eyes slowly, wishing Douglas had never come at all. Then, Douglas' eyes dropped on to the man himself. He was pale and thin, even more so than before, bags under the eyes and clear signs he had been crying, and stubble showing he hadn't shaven recently. "Martin?" he shook his head in disbelief of it all. There was no response from the thin pilot. "Martin." Douglas spoke clearly now, trying to sound a little more authority but not so much that he seemed heartless, because that's what Martin needed right now; authority – a calm, authoritative friend. Martin's eyes opened half way as he didn't care enough to open them the full amount.

"Go on." He whispered. Douglas gave him a confused look. "Laugh. Laugh like you always do. Martin has broken down- Martin cried- Martin has a terrible fucking life." He raised his voice more as he got to the end of the sentence.

"What makes you think I would _laugh _at you?"

"You always do- always tease me."

"No, Martin. I tease you for things you do that are _funny." _Martin didn't know how to respond. He had been prepared for so much worse – for Douglas to laugh in his face. "Now," Douglas said before Martin had the chance to respond. "What are you doing here? Down a back road that is Walker Street?" Martin looked down in embarrassment. Would he have to tell Douglas the true story?

"I- I had a delivery job here."

"What? At half eight in the morning?" Douglas queried. Martin would have to tell him, wouldn't he?

"I… I got evicted." He mumbled almost inaudibly, but Douglas heard, unfortunately.

"_What_? When?"

"A- a couple of days ago, but it's fine, Douglas-"

"Where have you been staying?" Douglas interrupted immediately, waiting for an answer. Though, he didn't need Martin to tell him, as he soon worked it out. The state of the van, the state of Martin, and where he was. "Right, come on." He decided quickly, ordering Martin out of the van and trying to pull him out.

"W- what? Where are we going? _Douglas?" _Martin shouted as he was practically being dragged from the van.

"You can stay at my house until you get things sorted."

"But- but-"

"_Captain_, that wasn't a _request_."

* * *

><p><strong>Hey! Thanks for reading so far - hope you liked it! I kinda have some sort of idea where this story is going, but then I have other ideas of where it could go and so yeah... whatever will be will be. Anyway, your comments are always appreciated and I will take any criticisms! Thanks :)<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

"Douglas, this is _ridiculous! _I _can't _stay with you!" Martin protested as the first officer was on his way to his home.

"And why ever not, captain?"

"Well- well because we work together! You don't want to see me every single day, and I- I don't want to see you every day."

"Martin, as much as I agree, your other option sounds much more absurd. Come on, Martin, you can't live in your van!" Martin paused for a moment, sensing a little bit of concern coming from his co-pilot, but he shrugged it off. _Douglas showing concern for him –now that was ridiculous. _

"I was going- going to do more van jobs and- and get more money, then I could sort myself out." Martin argued, but even he knew _that _sounded incredibly unrealistic, what with Carolyn taking more bookings for flights meaning he spent more hours at his unpaid job then with ICARUS removals. Douglas clearly sensed that Martin was beginning to see the error of his ways, or maybe he already had but he didn't want to let go of his pride.

"That's what you'll be doing at my house, _sir." _Douglas reassured him. "You'll stay until you can sort yourself out. I have a guest bedroom, and it would be nice to actually have some company around once in a while." He mumbled the last bit, though Martin heard. However, he chose not to say anything or ask any questions – he was barely in a position to start mocking Douglas' social life whilst his life was the way it was.

Douglas fumbled around with the keys for a minute before opening the door. He led the way into the living room and more or less ordered Martin to take a seat whilst he made them tea. "Haven't we got to fly today?" Martin shouted into the kitchen, sounding guiltier now after remembering the reason Douglas actually called him in the first place.

"I'll call Carolyn," Douglas shouted back.

"W-what will you tell her?" there was a slight pause filled with the sound of cups clanking together, suddenly Douglas appeared from the kitchen with the drink he had promised and he handed it to Martin, sitting in an armchair. Martin sipped his tea but then quickly withdrew, pulling a face. Douglas glanced at him. "H-hot." He carefully put the boiling cup of tea on to the coffee table in front of him and looked back at Douglas who was now looking down at his drink. "So? What will you sa-say to her?"

"That depends," Douglas looked up to Martin. "What do you want me to tell her?" Martin silenced for a moment, still shivering slightly, though less than before. He looked down trying to think of some sort of excuse that was worthy of not being able to fly today. There was no way he could tell her the truth. "Martin, maybe you should just _tell her." _The captain's head shot up in disbelief.

"N-no, I can't do that." He shook his head. "What's the point? She- she can't pay me, she can't do anything. I don't want her to know. I don't… I don't want _anybody _to know." He lowered his head once again, lowering his volume as he uttered the last few words. Douglas knew what he was getting at and sighed.

"I know you didn't want me to find out, but it's a good job I did! You can't live in your van, Martin." Martin nodded.

"I- I know." He sighed, wishing this wasn't happening.

"Alright," Douglas smiled sympathetically, realising just how bad Martin was feeling and how much he needed money. He had never really thought about it before; never really believed it was an issue because Martin never let on about it. Yes, he was often tired, and he was quite skinny, but he always seemed to forget about it all when he was on GERTI that it never dawned on Douglas that he had _real _problems. "I'll go and call Carolyn, why don't you get a shower?"

"Where- where…?"

"Up the stairs, two doors to your right." Douglas smiled as the poor pilot staggered off glumly.


	3. Chapter 3

After the refreshing shower, Martin made his way to the guest bedroom Douglas had shown him to earlier. He walked in timidly, even though he knew nobody he would be there, he was still quite shy and awkward in somebody else's home, especially when that somebody was _Douglas. _He peered his head round the door before immediately entering, glancing around the room taking it all in. The room was so much bigger than his attic, a lot more attractive too. There was a double bed, a bed side table, and the walls weren't scratched or peeling (Martin had never bothered to do up his attic – he'd always hoped he would be out of there soon enough.). His eyes went wide with surprise as he gazed around the room. Something like this is what he wanted to live in, _not_ an attic in a shared home. As he looked around, his eyes slowly drifted to the small pile of folded clothes at the edge of the bed. He walked over slowly, realising they were the spare clothes Douglas had said he could borrow until he went to get his others. He smiled thoughtfully as he looked at them, thanking Douglas. His heart sank; however, as he slowly sat on the most comfortable bed he'd ever sat on his life. Nothing like the bed in the attic, thank God. _Why am I in this situation? _He wondered, looking around him with sadness rather than the wonder he had done before. _I shouldn't _be here. _I should be in my _own _home. _He lowered his head and sighed in dismay, wishing that one day _things could change; _things _would _change.

Douglas hadn't heard anything from Martin since he had gotten the shower. Maybe something had happened, he worried. Nothing terrible could have happened, he thought, but then again, this was _Martin _he was talking about. If something bad was going to happen, it would happen to him, no doubt. "Martin?" he shouted not so loud from the bottom of the staircase. When there was no response, he climbed up two and shouted again. Still nothing. He decided it would just be best if he went upstairs. The bathroom door was open; Martin had already had a shower. _He must be in the guestroom. _Douglas wandered over there, and as he stood outside of the slightly ajar door to the room, he heard… sniffling? His eyes narrowed as he moved his head closer to the door, trying to listen closer. Martin was crying. Douglas sighed and shook his head, wondering what would be the best thing to do. Of course he should go in and comfort his captain, but _how? _He'd never known anyone in Martin's situation; he didn't know what to do or say really. He inhaled slowly as he put his hand on the door, pushing it open. Martin's head shot up quickly as he noticed the door open silently, and then Douglas' face appeared outside. _Christ. _Martin thought to himself. He was so _stupid. _Immediately, he rubbed his eyes and choked a little, turning his head away as Douglas cleared his throat and entered, trying to seem sympathetic. Which he was; he really _did _feel for Martin, because he knew he _did _work hard, at both of his jobs.

"Martin, you _can _talk to me, y'know?" Douglas used a soothing tone as he sat next to the distressed man. Martin looked up to him and attempted to smile, which really didn't work, and shook his head.

"W-why? I'm fine- of course I'm fine." He cleared his throat.

"It's okay _not _to be fine; you've just been evicted-"

"No!" Martin interrupted, almost shouting. Douglas seemed a little startled as the pilot continued. "No, it's _not _okay to _not _be fine! I _should be fine! _I should be in my _own _home, with my _own _clothes and my _own bed_ because- because …" he trailed off, tears stinging his eyes. He shook his head and closed his eyes. "I fly because I _love _to fly… But when I'm _not _flying I'm miserable, and even now, flying isn't making me as happy as it used to, b-because I _know _that it's the reason for me _being miserable _on land." Tears fell down his cheeks softly, but he didn't seem to care anymore. He didn't care that Douglas saw him like this because he had _nothing – _not even pride – anymore. Douglas stared at him for a moment, patting his back softly, trying to reassure him, but feeling helpless because he knew he couldn't get Martin out of _this, _whatever _this _was. And so he didn't say anything. He just silently sat by him, comforting him while he buried his head in his hands and cried. It wasn't until Martin eventually stopped and coughed, looking up at Douglas, that he did speak.

"Maybe you should get some sleep?" he suggested, smiling tenderly at him. "You clearly haven't had much sleep in the past few days, so it will do you good. Get some rest, and I'll get you something to eat when you wake up, and then we'll talk. Is that alright?" There was a short pause where Martin gathered himself together and then managed to look his co-pilot in the eye, where Douglas could see the emotional pain he was holding, and how much agony he was in, and then he nodded carefully. Douglas smiled and stood, allowing his friend to sleep. _His friend. _He thought to himself over and over. _Not just the captain. _He shut the door silently and exhaled deeply, taking the stairs gradually one by one, realising this was going to take a long time.

* * *

><p><strong>Hey, guys! I am so, so sorry this took such a long time! I just had quite a bit of revision to do, mock exams an' all : but they're over now, and so I'll try my best to get a few chapters done soon :) Well, I really hope you enjoy this chapter (especially after all that waiting - you may even have to read the first 2 chapters to actually _remember _the story, I know I did!) and I scanned through but saw no major errors, but it's very late where I live so you may spot something, if ya do, don't hesitate to just point it out and I'll fix it! So yeah, thanks :)**


	4. Chapter 4

Martin woke up gradually, yawning and stretching as he did so. He turned himself over to the other side as he was about to drift off again, but his eyes spotted something and he sat up rapidly. He blinked a few times to wake himself up properly, and then shifted himself over to the side of the bed closest to the window; it was dark outside. Quite dark. _How? _He wondered to himself, quizzically assessing the outside view. _It was around one that I'd fallen asleep…_ Turning to his watch, he gasped as he saw the time. It was two in the morning. _Two in the morning. _He'd slept all afternoon. How could he have slept _all afternoon? _Then his mind wandered. _It was a good night's sleep, though, _he smiled softly. The best night sleep he had had in _years. _No students with their shouting or their music or parties. No rock mattress breaking his back or causing him pain every single time he moved. Nothing he had experienced since he was younger. Of course, when he was younger it hadn't mattered to him. Now it did.

He rubbed his eye carefully with the palm of his hand as he kicked his legs effortlessly out from under the warm, welcoming blankets. He didn't want to leave, but he was desperate for a drink. As soon as he'd refreshed himself with a cold drink to get rid of his terribly dry throat, he would be back to just _sleep. _Hopefully, he thought, he wouldn't wake Douglas. That was the _last _thing he needed right now. All he wanted was to hydrate himself, and so he crept out of bed and cautiously made his way down the stairs and to the kitchen.

His hand stroked the wall as he searched for the light switch, successfully turning it on after a few minutes_. Now, to find the glasses_. He didn't know how he was going to do this without making so much noise, though he did try and do it somewhat quietly. Unfortunately, he knew with his luck, that Douglas would be there.

"Top right cupboard, if you're looking for a glass." The smooth voice of the first officer came from the doorway and Martin flinched at the sound of it. He stood up from his crouched position steadily and turned. "I'm surprised you didn't come down for one sooner."

"Oh- oh- oh, I- I'm sorry, Douglas. I didn't mean- mean to wake you, I-"

"Martin, it's fine. You didn't wake me, I was already awake anyway." Martin didn't respond, just looked around awkwardly for the moment. "Water?" Douglas reminded him and he nodded, moving over quickly to the cupboard and having to stand on his tiptoes to grab a glass, which was a _tad _humiliating, especially with Douglas watching his every move. However, Martin was too thirsty to care and so he continued to the tap to get the water he had so desperately awaited.

He sipped it slowly at the sink, not turning around because he didn't want to face his new housemate, and then sighed with relief as the water rushed down his throat, managing to get rid of the dryness and the taste of bile that he had had since he'd arrived at his new temporary home. _Of course it was temporary. _Everything was _temporary _in Martin's case. However, he did finally finish, and so he was forced to turn around and face the concerned looking man in front of him, who refused to let him pass. "D- Douglas, please, just let me go back to bed." The man sighed in exasperation. He didn't need this right now. He didn't need Douglas in his face. He needed to be alone, to sleep and just leave everything else behind.

"Alright," Douglas gave in, deciding not to anger Martin anymore, "Though, I hope you'll be up for breakfast tomorrow? Or _today, _as it seems. I'm glad you managed to get some rest, but you need to eat something, too." Martin nodded furiously, just wanting to go to bed. Douglas, though, still wasn't so sure, and he eyed Martin up and down. He didn't know what to _do, _what to _say. _He had no idea what was going on in Martin's head, but it wasn't good. He didn't even like _flying _anymore. The first officer looked desperately at the man in front of him, searching for some sort of answer as to _how exactly he could help. _But there was nothing. He just seemed… blank. Completely blank. Like he really had just _given up. _Douglas had no idea things were so bad, since just a few months ago he'd been flying with this man. Well, not _this _man. Not anymore. They weren't the same person – they were completely disassociated from each other. The man he flew with _loved _flying and Douglas was sure he wasn't just _pretending _on those trips, they had played games and had fun. Douglas, though, had teased him quite a bit. He felt so _guilty, _so _stupid. _If he had known Martin was living so badly, he would have _helped. _It upset him to think Martin didn't know he could just talk to him, or ask for his help. Well actually, if he would have asked anyone, it wouldn't be the man who had teased him since he started. Douglas began to worry if Martin _had _been like this over the past few months, maybe not so bad, but still quite bad. Maybe he was just good at not showing it; gritting his teeth and just _getting on with it. _Douglas' mind wandered as he started at the scrawny pilot whose hair was all scruffy and somehow less colourful and bright, as his whole being had become. He was just sort of… grey, like slowly each part of him had just dimmed.

Douglas' thought process had come to a sudden halt as the man he was thinking about had now moved past him through the door and went on his way to the guestroom. Douglas watched after him, but didn't bother to call after him or follow him because he knew there was no point in doing so; he'd still get the blank stare, the dimness, and the desperation that radiated off of the poor captain. He knew he wasn't enough, but he also knew Martin would kill him if he got anybody else involved. _I'll see how he is tomorrow. _He agreed with himself, and with that he went to his own bed and tried to sleep without worrying about Martin.


	5. Chapter 5

"Martin?" a soft voice came from somewhere. _Where? _Martin wondered as he looked around for the voice, but he had no clue where it could be coming from. He didn't even know where _he _was, let alone anything else. It was somewhere gloomy and cold. Dark and sad, somewhere he knew, but couldn't quite put his finger on. He had felt this way before, this horrible, sinking feeling. Like he _wanted _to get out, he _need _to, but there was this weight. This huge weight pushing him further and further down, and it was there _constantly, _like a reminder of something. Of all the bad things. Every terrible, stupid, _pathetic _thing he had ever done, trying to keep him in his place. _His _place. Dare he try and rise above it. He didn't belong up there with those who knew what they were doing, who were _good _at things, who didn't stutter or embarrass themselves at _every single moment. _How dare he try and join with them. "Martin?" the voice came again, still no clearer than before, not making its place or being anymore obvious. He did _know _the voice though, he definitely knew that. He recognised it, but couldn't quite tell. A bit like the place he was in now. Where was it? It's somewhere he's been, somewhere he knows, somewhere he _hates. _But where? Then it hit him. It's _everywhere. _Everywhere he's ever been. His home as a child – he'd always been the clumsy child, always let his father down, _always been a disappointment. _The attic. The attic of a shared home for students. He never even referred to it as _home, _it was _the attic. _If he referred to it as home he was giving up – giving in. He was accepting that his life would always be like that. Inside, somewhere deep, deep inside, he kind of _had _accepted that that was his life. But he would never show that. Oh no. He would always keep that buried, he couldn't let it rise, because then he'd be done for. Though, now, with nothing, it was slowly making its way through his system. Through every single part of his brain, his body, his _being. _The nagging sensation that he'll _always _be a failure – especially now he hasn't even got the attic, he's got a _place to stay until he can work things out. _Martin scoffed internally; if he _ever _managed to fix this mess then that would be a miracle. Then of course, there was MJN. Now, that place had been colourful and bright and beautiful when he started. No, he didn't get paid, but the flying paid for itself! _But that's why I'm in this godforsaken mess. _It got him through not eating enough, because it was what he had _always _dreamed of. But now. Now its light was slowly fading, and he wanted it back. Because, despite Arthur's cheeriness, despite the flying, he despised GERTI and all of it now. For what it did to him. For everything it took away from him. For everything he _could _have had, but _hasn't _because of that _damned _company. That was the worst place now. Not the attic. Not his old home. But the one place he had loved. The one place that used to make everything better. The one place that took everything he had.

"Martin." The voice was sterner now. He found it alright. Opening his eyes he was surprised to see his first officer sat beside him, shaking him slightly. Why was he shaking him? "Oh good, you're awake." He seemed relieved. Why did he seem relieved? Martin blinked several times before pushing himself to sit up and looking quizzically at Douglas. "You were having a nightmare or something…" Douglas trailed off. Martin still seemed a little confused and out of it, and so Douglas changed the topic. "It's a good job you're up now anyway; I was about to do breakfast." He smiled, but something didn't seem right. The smile didn't have the usual Douglas charm to it, it seemed forced. Like he was worried or concerned. Martin shook the idea out of his head quickly. Douglas concerned? For _Martin? _He couldn't be. But there definitely was _something…_ "Any preference?" he asked, snapping Martin out of his thought process.

"Er… n-no, thanks." He still seemed blank, Douglas could see. Douglas stayed for a moment or two, trying to suss things out. Martin _couldn't _be this bad. He just… couldn't. Could he? Douglas didn't know what Martin had been like at the attic, after work, or those days sleeping in his van. If he had _just asked sooner. Three words; how are you? They aren't hard! _Martin stared at him, wondering why he was still sat with him, until Douglas spoke again.

"Are… are you _alright, _Martin?" Martin stayed silent. "I mean- I know you're not, but you're not… you're okay_ here_, right?" Martin couldn't believe it; Douglas Richardson was struggling for words; clearly not so good with the emotional sort of stuff. "You can always talk to me."

"Douglas, that- that's kind of you," Martin began, not really knowing what to say next. He stared at his friend for a moment, thinking he should just _tell him. _But then there was that nagging sensation; Douglas doesn't need to hear it, he puts up with enough from Martin, he doesn't need to hear about his pathetic problems – it's enough Martin's having to stay at his _home. _He doesn't need the extra problems, especially after his outburst yesterday. No. He shouldn't tell him. _I'm just _pathetic. _I don't _deserve _his help. _"But I- I'm fine." He smiled. Douglas noticed his smile was forced, clearly. He knew that yesterday's outburst was just a taste of what Martin's life was like – he was obviously much more emotional and put down by it all, and there must be a lot more going on. What he also knew was that he wasn't going to get it out of Martin. Maybe he would, eventually, but not this morning. So he let it go. If Martin wanted to let it go, then he would too.

"Alright then," Douglas stood up, walking to the door. "I'll call you when breakfast is done." And with that, he left.


	6. Chapter 6

Douglas sighed as he began making breakfast – a full one, he would make sure Martin ate something good here – and wondered what he was supposed to do. Was he supposed to wait? _Wait for what? _Things to change. Maybe they wouldn't. Maybe he would never know; Martin was good at keeping his feelings for himself, he had done for so long, maybe not when he first arrived at Douglas', but he's barely spoken to him since about _anything. _They haven't had a conversation about _anything. _Maybe that was what Douglas needed to do; just talk to him, make him feel normal, comfortable. _But talk about what? What is Martin _interested _in? _Douglas had always assumed Martin's whole life revolved around planes, which was a sensible conclusion as it's all Martin's ever spoken about, and he _does _go home and go on an aeroplane simulator of some sorts…

Martin came down, rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands. He was still in the spare clothes as he hadn't gone to get those he'd had in his van. What was the point? They were dirty, they were small, and they were _old. _Douglas gave him a sympathetic glance as he walked in, which Martin spotted, but didn't believe it was _sympathy _he saw. This was Douglas. Of _course_ it wasn't sympathy. He sat himself down on one of the stools and stared at Douglas cooking, though was daydreaming rather than paying attention to the real world around him. The real world was too much.

When Douglas placed the plate down in front of the captain, he did it so it made quite a loud noise, trying to snap him out of the new dream he was in. Douglas had never seen him this way; it made him incredibly unnerved. He sat across from Martin with his own breakfast and scanned his friend quickly, trying to find something that he could talk about. He kept opening his mouth to say something, but then stopped himself at the last minute, thinking it would be stupid. He felt odd, not knowing what to say. Martin noticed this and seemed slightly confused, "is everything alright?" he queried.

"Oh, yes fine, fine." Douglas nodded quickly. Martin stared at him for a moment, but then let it go.

"This- this is very nice…" Martin said as he looked down at his food, poking his fork around. Douglas looked up and noticed he'd only eaten half a sausage, and the rest of the food was being prodded weakly. "But I'm not that hungry." he almost sighed, ashamed with himself, as he looked up to Douglas.

"That's alright," Douglas smiled, standing to grab the plate and take it over to the counter. Martin was surprised with the response he'd received, after what Douglas had said last night; he assumed he'd receive a lot worse. Why wasn't Douglas annoyed at him? _Everybody _was annoyed at him, so why not Douglas? "What are you thinking of doing today?" the co-pilot asked, changing the topic as he returned to the table. Martin looked at him for a moment or two, thinking, and then shook his head. "Well, I was thinking that we could go and get your stuff from your van – or just me if you don't feel up to it – and then we can do whatever you want." _Whatever _I w_ant? _Martin seemed even more confused and lost now. Nobody ever wanted to do things _he _wanted to do, and that's mainly because he really only had one passion; flying.

"What?"

"I don't know; whatever." Douglas smiled comfortingly. This smile definitely wasn't forced. Maybe there was some sort of other emotion behind it, but there was definitely a sense of comfort there; a sense of friendship. It felt as though he didn't fully _understand, _but wanted to _try. _Martin was completely dumfounded by this. Was Douglas Richardson actually being _kind _to him? _Was he? Was _that concern he had seen in his smile earlier? Was it worry? _Did _he care? Of course, there was still the niggling sensation that this wasn't true – it simply _couldn't _be – but now, now there was something that said _maybe. _From somewhere inside him, he heard a tiny sense of positivity. He knew that this is what he needed – a sense of positivity, even if it was _tiny. _Because it meant that he actually _felt something, _rather than just sadness, which is all he has ever felt for the past months. He actually… he had _somebody. _Somebody who was _trying. _"So, is that alright?"

"W-what? Oh, erm, yeah, yeah. That's good- good." Martin attempted a smile. Douglas noticed.


	7. Chapter 7

Martin dragged the last box out of his van slowly, taking a deep breath as he picked it up once it got to the edge. Douglas was waiting at the side to put it in his car, he knew Martin wouldn't be able to carry it alone; all of this emotion weighing him down, and the fact that he wasn't really strong to begin with due to lack of proper food. Martin dropped it into Douglas' arms, not really caring about damaging its contents as he sighed, nodding to Douglas to take it. "That's the last one." He nodded, seeing now how _little _he actually owned. Even Douglas saw it now. Three boxes. Everything he owned in _three _boxes. He shook his head once Douglas had gone over to place the box carefully in his boot. He looked up and stared at the van. Noticing his reflection in the mirror, he looked down once more. He was crying _again. How can I be crying _again? _Have I not run out of tears? _He thought angrily to himself. _If it wasn't for the goddamn van… _He began repeating over and over. Before he even realised what he was doing, he began kicking the front wheel of the van he had possessed for _so long. Too long. _His force grew and grew and he scrunched his face as he channelled all of his anger down through his leg, to his foot, and to the van. _The biggest problem. _He kicked it and kicked it until he ran out of energy… Until he just gave up because he knew this was getting him nowhere. He gradually put his leg back into place and let his head fall into his hands as the stinging in his eyes beat him. The tears fell violently and constantly, his lips trembled and he shuddered, even when Douglas came over.

Martin fell into his friend as Douglas placed his hand gently on Martin's shoulder. Martin couldn't hold himself anymore, and he just let himself _go. _Luckily, Douglas didn't mind. He seemed a little surprised at first when the captain fell so hard, but he got used to it quickly, and managed to put his arms around him, holding him together. He didn't say anything. He didn't _need _to say anything. Not yet. All he needed to do now was _be there. _He could see that that's all he _ever had to be, _and he _never was. _All he had ever done was tease the man for things that were not his fault, he let the man starve by forcing him to bet the cheese tray, and he never _thought _about how Martin must be living, even when he told him he didn't get paid, and even when he told him he had to work two jobs. Martin had just never crossed Douglas' mind. But now, now Martin _needed _somebody. He _needed _Douglas, and so Douglas was going to be there.

Eventually, Douglas had managed to almost carry Martin over to the car, and seat him in the back so he could just relax. "I- I'm sorry, Douglas." Martin mumbled repeatedly as Douglas sat himself in the front seat.

"Do _not _apologise, Martin." Douglas commanded in his captain voice. Why didn't Martin have a captain voice? Why did he stutter? Why did he make mistakes? "_Never _apologise for anything like this. Not to _me, _not to _anybody. _This isn't _your _fault, Martin." He made it perfectly clear. Martin wanted to apologise, a part of him didn't believe Douglas, but Douglas seemed so authoritative and he was _always _right, and so Martin shut up. Douglas watched him from the mirror; he'd slouched down a little and his tear filled eyes were barely staying open, emphasising his exhaustion. Silently, he started the car, still watching the man through the mirror.

Douglas accompanied Martin into the house, sitting him on the sofa before going back to bring all of the boxes in. Martin had tried to help; he felt like such a nuisance. Though, Douglas insisted on doing it all himself, and he didn't take no for an answer. _Why can't I do that? Why can't I make _orders? Martin sat quietly, wiping the tears softly away from his eyes with the palms of his hands. He heard Douglas grunt after placing the final box down and then going to sit with Martin in the living room. "Do you want a drink?" Douglas asked hopefully, to which Martin nodded as if he were a child who had just hurt himself or something. Douglas couldn't stand to see him like this. He couldn't believe that just a week or so ago, they were playing games in GERTI together. Of course, Martin was losing those games, but it certainly _seemed _as though he enjoyed them.

"How are you feeling?" Douglas asked, looking over at the pale man slouching on his sofa, sipping his tea. He seemed to look a little better, and had stopped shivering, but he was still blue.

"Hm…" Martin shrugged, looking into his tea. "I don't know." He exhaled as he looked up at Douglas. "I feel… I don't know." Before continuing, he placed his drink down on the coffee table and sat at the edge of the sofa as Douglas watched him. "It's like, I _should _feel sad because- because I've lost _everything. _But then I- I don't feel sad, because I didn't have so much to _lose. _And what I did have to lose was an attic and a van that made my life misery. I'm just upset because I _had _those things to lose. I should have had _more. _And I should have been in a position where I _couldn't lose anything._" He let his head fall into his hands as he sighed. "I just always… I always thought that if you lived doing what you _loved, _then everything worked out. I worked so _hard _to become a pilot, to do something I loved, and for _what? _For an attic in a shared house? I had to take _two _jobs, and the one that paid me I could hardly do because Carolyn would always insist… And now… Now I have _nothing." _Douglas opened his mouth to say something, but what could he say? Martin was _right. _He _had _worked hard, and what he got in return was lousy. Martin looked up just before he could say anything anyway, and sighed. "So no, I'm not upset because I _lost _everything. I'm not upset because I barely had _anything _to lose. I'm upset because I _worked hard, _I tried to live my dream, but now even that has been ruined for me. Even that has been _taken. _I've _lost my love for flying, _and I don't know what or who I am without that. The only thing that kept me… going." He turned away from Douglas who was speechless. Martin hadn't expected him to saying anything; he just wanted to tell him. He wanted to get it out because he knew that's what Douglas had been waiting for, and he had nothing to lose, as he had just made perfectly clear.

He closed his eyes as he picked up his cup and began to sip quietly again, when he suddenly felt a soft pat on his shoulder. Looking up, he found Douglas smiling at him. "Martin, you haven't lost _everything._" Confused, Martin picked his head up a little. "I'm your friend, Martin, and I'm _always_ here." _He wasn't being sincere? Was he? _"I've always seen you as one of my closest friends; otherwise I wouldn't have let you stay here." Douglas smiled, but Martin was still in disbelief about it all. "And maybe you think you've got _nothing _anymore, but you _have. _And you _will _get yourself back on track; I'll make sure of it. You're not in this on your own." Martin managed to mirror Douglas' smile.


End file.
